bye tita cory

 Former Philippine President Corazon Aquino passed away today. My prayers for the family.

ignoy moment

 It was raining when I woke up after a mousefying night at Disneyland Hollywood Hotel. It was raining when I grabbed the complimentary soap and shampoo bottles with mouse ear caps, on the way to the bathtub with mouse-print shower curtains. It was raining still while we had our breakfast at Cafe Mickey. Rain, rain, rain. 

Just when I thought we’ll have to stay at the hotel and get mousefied all over again – with all the mickey icons swathed and transformed into art deco motifs – the rain stopped. The gray clouds cleared and out came the sun. Oh, God must have loved us so much that he granted our wish – which is to have another bright sunny morning of fun at the disneyland park.

While waiting for my other companions to show up at the hotel lobby, I saw this gadget standing near the door leading to the outdoor recreational area. I was totally amazed by it. Ok, it was a true ignoy moment for me. But come on, I never saw anything like it at Davao city. I must have looked silly taking picture of this wet umbrella wrap but, sheeesh, it was awe at first sight.

Two weeks ago, I searched the net for similar rainy day gadgets and found an amazing cousin of this umbrella wrap. Its a wet umbrella dryer – works much like the hand-dryers found in restrooms. I think every mall, school, office and hotel  in the country must have at least one of these near the entrance.

you proved me wrong, mickey

 Jumping, giggling, chasing, screaming, waving, singing, hopping, running, dancing, walking, skipping, laughing, twirling, clapping . . . like a child at HK Disneyland.

in transition

After months of taking things nice and easy, I finally faced what’s inevitable – to finally get on with the transition process that my older sister has always been talking about.

At the top of the must do’s is a review of what I had accomplished for the last 7 years. What better way to accomplish this than by reviewing my resume? So here was my plan: (1) Retrieve my resume from my portable HD. (2) Update resume.  (3) Gameover.

It was so easy… or so I thought. When my bossy older sister reviewed my ‘updated’ resume, she promptly declared it boring and uninformative. She said it did not really state what I have accomplished.

Duh?! I was really confused. I did state that I worked for blah-blah and I was the blah-blah but apparently, it did not pass her standards.  She took pity on me and advised me on what to do.

Oh, I labored for two days and nights, staring at the computer and willing my brain to remember things. And try to add and string together words and sentences that give honest and clear picture of my accomplishments.

I guess my labors paid off because, yesterday, she finally deemed my resume acceptable. It was a meticulous labor, I have to admit given that I’m a minimalist. But I’m glad that I did what she had advised me to do.

The process that I took to come up with an acceptable (by my sister’s standard) resume really opened my eyes and helped me appreciate the things I went through for the past 7 years. What’s really great is that I came to know myself better – my strengths, traits, interests  and skills (they seem vague before). And I realized that, yes, I may not be the ultimate mentor, colleague and employee nor my works were not perfect, I did accomplish some good stuff.  

Mmmmm… Im starting to think that this transition thing is a great idea. Now what’s next?

the cat did it

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I woke up one February morning to find my laptop missing a single key.

What? The missing part was the period key.
Where? I found the key under a chair after hours of searching. 
How? How it came off the board still remains a mystery.
Why? Beats me. Perhaps somebody has a hidden obsession for period keys.
Who? Nobody’s confessing the crime. Must be the cat.

 

confessions from coffeeland

My love affair with coffee started early – I think when I was 5 or 6 years old. It all started one morning when I wondered why my father’s ‘milk’ was black while mine was white. It smelled different,too. An oddly happy smell. Curiosity hooked, I asked for a taste which my father readily obliged.

It is hard to put in writing the taste sensation of my first gustatory encounter with coffee. So to put it simply, it was love at first sip;  so I asked for another sip and another and more.

It did not take long for someone to call me Miss Kape and my reputation as a coffee drinker to spread among relatives. I drank it hot. I drank it cold. While my sisters and cousins dunked their pandesal in milk, I cheerfully dunked mine in coffee. My lugaw was even coffee or mocha flavored, too.

For me, it did not matter whether it was instant or brewed, black or creamed,imported or local as long as it has the aroma and taste that was uniquely of coffee.

I was a happy coffee drinker, much to my mother’s dismay. Concerned about my health, she tried to disuade me from drinking too much coffee. I still remember the most crazy scheme she (together with my older sister and aunt) had concocted. It was a tale about the effect of coffee on my skin. She said coffee was the reason why I was nug-nug (dark-skinned). And for a while, I believed her – by simple childish deduction.

You see, there were only two coffee drinkers in the family, my father and I – both dark-skinned. On the other hand, my mother, aunt and two sisters, non-coffee drinkers, were all fair-skinned. Hence, I deduced, coffee can cause darkening of skin. Sounds ridiculous now but my then six year old intellect was confident of the conclusion. However, this particular glib did not work as my mother had intended. I was never a vain child, thus, being a nug-nug did not bother me.  I continued on my coffee-fest.

We always have a supply of coffee at home since my father was (and still is) a regular coffee drinker. But when I went to Manila to attend college, my supply of coffee became scarce. My older sister seldom include coffee in our grocery list. Like my mother, she is a staunch supporter of the health-benefits of milk.

Fortunately, I found many allies in the form of classmates. I studied architecture in college and just like what they say, coffee is a lifeline of many architecture students. With all the latenights and overnighters, coffee, chocolates and cola were regular staple among my classmates.

I never drank coffee to stay awake (I was always the first one to sleep – I was never fond of overnights even then), I drank simply because of the gustatory pleasure it brings. Whenever I needed some perk up, I drank milk instead; a habit that greatly boggled Rach, my frequent groupmate in school projects.

Two years ago, I was advised by my doctor to refrain from drinking coffee for medical reasons. Since then, no more coffee-laced lugaw and barako for me. No more 2 packs of cream and 2 tablespoons of sugar for every sachet of instant coffee. No more steaming black coffee from posh cafes.

Believe me, drawing a lungfull of aroma from someone else’s coffee is both a torture and a manna. Heavenly but wistfully not enough.

I don’t think I could completely wean myself from coffee. I confess that once in a while,  once or twice a month, I sneak in a spoon of decaffeinated coffee in my cup of milk.

Of course I feel guilty everytime I have that moment of weakness. But I swallow my guilt just as I savor my first sip of my now rare cup of coffee.

tubful of fun

We had a short spell of dry season this year. So short that the mangoes in the yard did not have a chance to bloom fully. But looking at the brighter side, the lawn did not turn brown and dusty which normally happens here in Cavite during long summer months. Instead, the lawn remain lush and very green.

The dry spell, albiet short, was very hot. To combat prickly heat and summer blues, my niece and nephew took a plunge in a tub of cool water. The tub may be small but the fun was great.

finally!

As promised, Teleserve delivered my passport 10 days after I made an appearance at DFA. A photocopy of my notorious birth certificate is attached to one of the crisp pages, making my passport look bulky. But wohoo! Im all ready for next month’s trip to the north with my family.

There’s one gray cloud in the horizon though – the H1N1. Hopefully, it will be safe to travel abroad by first week of June.

visceral cold

The nurse led me through a vanilla colored hall where several examination rooms are connected. She opened a door on the left and gestured me to enter.

The room has pink walls and I mentally noted that who ever designed the room has a good background on color theory. Pink is said to could calm a person.

Another door mirrors the door which I entered. I briefly wondered where it leads to. A pink bed rests at the center of the room and beside it is the now familiar sonogram. The accordion door on the right side of the room opens to a changing room.

***

The changing room is well lit and even has a wide mirror (no grappling with my clothes in the dark – check!). A pile of clean-smelling pink gowns on the wooden shelf (check!). Laundry basket awaits for used used gowns (check!). Ample space for my things on the shelf (check!). Satisfied, I grabbed one clean gown and changed. Hahaha! The one-size-fits-all, duster-look-alike gown did not fit me at all. It could perfectly hold a person twice my size!

***

I went back to the main room wearing the gown – I have no other option. I lay down on the bed. The nurse fussed around a bit, politely told me to wait for the doctor and then she left.

Me. Room. Alone.

Good.

***

I was glad to have that solitary time, even if it was only for a minute. It is a moment to take a deep breath and gather courage. To focus. To pray.

Pray that it wont be too cold this time.

What I really dread every time is the algid coldness of the gel. As it is smeared on my skin, I get goosebumps and my heart starts to beat faster. I really hate it. It was as if an unknown fear has gotten hold of me.

The pink walls, pink gown and pink bed did not help to calm me.

***

It has long been a challenge among designers to make hospitals homey and friendly for a couple of reasons. Many proposed patterned wall prints, certain colors, indoor plants, more windows, framed pictures and paintings, etcetera.

As I dumped my gown in the laundry basket after the examination, I realized one thing. Perhaps doctors and designers may have missed one thing. I have heard of stories of people remembering certain cold things in hospitals — the cold table, the cold knife, the cold clamp, etc. Perhaps something could be done about these things.

In my case, the cold gel. Perhaps, I just needed a warm gel to make me comfortable during examinations. Perhaps.

on change

“It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.”  – Alan Cohen

my first post this year

My life has been pretty hectic since the start of my leave last november until the first week of this year. First, there was the packing frenzy and then the actual move to my hometown. Following my older sister’s suggestion, we took the loooong way home: the Davao-Agusan-Cagayan route.  Along the way, I saw several ’skylabs’ in Compostela Valley, toured Lake Mainit in Agusan and made friends with some Mamanua weavers.

I finally arrived home (at last!) and found a very panicky younger sister and a rather chaotic house renovation. To make this story short, lets just say I survived  my sister’s wedding and I now have a new bedroom.

After the wedding, came the preparations for  Christmas and my mother’s birthday party, the reunion fever week and then the new year (in between are several bomb threats that almost paralyzed the city). And finally, on my way to Manila, I got stuck in CDO due to flooding and continuous rains.

***

Now I am in sister’s place in Cavite,  enjoying my hu-hum life, blue-lipped and all bundled up.

yellow dragon fruit

Out of curiosity, I bought 2 yellow dragon fruits at NCCC Mall this morning. It cost me 54pesos – it is sold at 150pesos per kilo.

Though smaller, the yellow dragon fruit is much sweeter than the (almost tasteless) pink dragon fruit I have eaten before.

dragon fruit for the dragon girl

I have this seen this exotic fruit in supermarkets before but it is only quite recently that I have actually tasted it. My verdict: the new fruit of the gods! Sorry durian lovers but dragon fruit is perfect – from its appearance to taste.

Dragon fruit’s hot pink skin is leathery and resembles dragon scales (hence the name). The juicy pulp is refreshing and subtly sweet that it is almost tasteless, and the seemingly gazillion anise-like seeds add interesting crunch to the over-all texture. For a fruit that is almost tasteless, it is surprisingly rich in antioxidants and vitamins.

It is quite expensive – a kilo costs around 200pesos, thats 4x the cost of a kilo of sweet ripe Philippine mangoes. Hmmmm, since I am fast becoming a fan of this fruit, I have to cultivate some clumps of this cactus back home.

* * * *

Jean and I added grapes in our dragon fruit shake. Wow, perfect combination! I think dragon fruit will also go well with guava, cucumber and kiwi fruit shakes.

woes of a packrat

I will be going home to Iligan City next week. Since I will be spending most of the time there these coming months, I have decided to give up my space near the university to save money.

Moving back to my hometown also means moving my THINGS from Davao to Iligan. Yup, things of a packrat. Imagine, I still have those class notes and all the fru-frus from college (more than 10 years ago) somewhere in my room. Add that to these: I went through an Imeldefic stage a couple of years ago, I have this crazy love affair with books and magazines, and my wardrobe has a serious personality disorder. Ahhh, thank God I did not buy furniture sets!

* * * *

My father will definitely go ballistic if I ship ALL my things back home. I guess, I really have to go through my things and decide which goes to the garbage can and which to pack. Ugh, I foresee a long, grave battle between sentiment and pragmatism ahead.

the mangatar craze

I clearly remember KB’s drawing mania in college: him hunched in some corner of our tambayan during his free time, drawing manga-caricatures of our barkada in the org’s logbook using his trademark blue colored pencil. Methinks it was his excuse to make a serious study of Rach’s face (hehehe); they were a-courting then and KB, like any besotted buck who knows how to draw, likes to sketch his loveydovey’s visage. In his attempt to mask his drawing obsession, he went on to draw the caricatures of the rest of the gang; namely irene, net, ge, mitzi (?) and yours truly. (KB, wag kang mag-denial king dyan!)

In fairness, KB is one talented person. He made excellent manga-style caricatures of irene, rach, ge and, oh yes, net who looks like a walking-talking anime anyway then (peace!). I can’t remember mitzi’s caricature though. Anyways as you have noticed, I did not include my name in the list of KB’s drawing achievements. That is because he could not manage to create a decent manga-style caricature of yours truly, the resident bunny a.k.a sailormoon of the tambayan. In fairness again, KB did try. Again and again. But in the end, we just sort of concluded that I’m not a manga material.

* * * * *

This trip to memory lane was brought about by the latest craze in avatars – the mangatars. Manga plus avatar (ow, a fusion of Sanskrit and Nihonggo terms, how sweet!). Inspired by musified macho’s cute mangatar, I took up the challenge of creating my very own. I made two last night.

I can’t find matching eye and hair features for my mangatar. The options are generally few; there are no options for eyebags, dark eye circles and dental braces (I was sorely tempted to twick my mangatar in adobe photoshop!). Anyways, what do you think? Still not a manga material? Or should I just stick to realism?

Create your own mangatar at www.faceyourmangatar.com. Have fun!